How a school meals greenhouse brings colour and nutrition to children’s diets in Tajikistan

As extreme weather linked to climate change bites, a home-grown school meals project backed by the World Food Programme is sprouting pumpkins for munchkins

14 March 2024, Elise Gibergues-Newton

As the chilly winter sun rises, their red cheeks burned by the frozen air, Hamida and her friends skip merrily on the way to school against the majestic backdrop of mountains and a vast lake – the Nurek reservoir.

The dawn mist slowly clears in the village of Chashma, perched high up a valley in southeast Tajikistan, as the laughter and bickering of children is heard in the schoolyard.

(In the Soviet era, this village and the town of Nurek, were built to house engineers working on the Nurek dam – which on its completion in 1980 was the world’s tallest.)

“Back then, I was really concerned about the quality of the children’s meals, mainly made of clear soup,” she says.

“But now I can see a huge change in (what’s served on) the plates, and for the children themselves. The attendance rates are visibly soaring”.

Small steps can make a big difference. In 2019, the World Food Programme (WFP) introduced greenhouses and equipment to plough land and help the school’s orchard thrive.

With training, the project was soon flourishing in this farming region. The vegetables grown were rapidly able to complement the meals of more than 120 children.

Over the years, carrots, cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, pumpkins and lemons to name a few, have sprung out of the ground and brought brightness and colour to the children’s plates. The importance of this cannot be overstated – almost half the population of Tajikistan live on little over US$2 a day. Malnutrition rates are the highest in central Asia.

Arable land is scarce in this landlocked, mountainous country and people depend mainly on imports to feed themselves. This makes them highly vulnerable to price fluctuations and market disruptions. The slightest hitch has profound consequences on vulnerable families. Galloping inflation has exacerbated difficulties for people trying to fill their shopping baskets.

Before the project, “teachers and parents were already contributing with additional fruit and other food to help in the canteen”, says Tabarov. “But this support can now slowly decrease as the school has gradually become more self-sufficient.”

Surplus food is either shared with the teachers or sold at the market, with proceeds reinvested into the school.

The orchard is a sustainable success and there is now a third greenhouse full of bright lemon trees.

WFP just provides wheat flour. Every morning, the appetizing scent of fresh rolls carefully prepared within the walls of the school comes out of the steaming oven, adding to the children’s savoury meals.

In the kitchen, Rukhshona and Shabnam are amused. “The children tell us they eat so well, most of them prefer what they eat here to what they have at home,” they say.

“It’s more tasty,” confirms Hamida.

When the lunch bell finally rings, the younger Grade 1 children walk out of their classroom two-by-two in disciplined rows, trying to contain their excitement as they sit down waiting for the teacher to give them the green light.

The ritual begins. Today’s meal is a pasta feast for the children, with “makkeroni” as they call them, carrots, onions and tomatoes.

“After my meal I feel more powerful,” says seven-year-old Yosin with a grin, his feet barely touching the ground as he dips bread into his bowl. At intervals he sips from a mug of natural juice made from dried apples picked in the school orchard.

“It will help me improve my focus and maybe get better marks,” says Hamida, who adds that she wants to become a teacher.

Headmaster Tabarov, who’s been at the school for more than 50 years, is pleased. “It is not only crucial because of its impact on children’s health and education, but also because sharing good meals has strengthened the links between children and their families.”

The success of home-grown meals at his school is a model that is being rolled out to 44 schools across Tajikistan.

A bell calls the young students back to their wooden desks. They take turns to recite a few lines from the day’s poem, clapping for each other under the caring eye of Dilorom. “They really are more alert now, active and participative,” she says.

As the sun begins to set over the surrounding mountains and the children disperse, Hamida takes a path behind the school that leads to a gentle slope down the hill where she lives. At home, she enthusiastically helps her parents and does her homework under the confident and reassured gaze of her mother – for whom this greenhouse definitely helps not just the vegetables to grow well.